Since I occasionally carry a weapon on long motorcycle trips, I decided I’d better get an Arizona concealed carry permit.
I had a CCW permit before but foolishly allowed it to expire, which meant I had to take state-mandated training all over again to obtain a new permit.
Never mind that Arizona’s on the verge of passing legislation that will allow citizens to carry concealed weapons without any sort of permit. Other states still require CCW permits, and I often ride across borders. Also never mind (for now) this bizarre NRA/Teabagger/End-Times Militia/Christianist-sponsored push to arm all citizens (so long as they are white). I wouldn’t feel right without a permit, so I got one.
When I took my first CCW course back in 2002, training focused on the legal issues involved in using guns in self defense: when you could or couldn’t display, brandish, or shoot. The rest of the training covered gun safety and maintenance.
This time around, in addition to the above, we spent a couple of hours talking about the philosophy behind concealed carry and the various methods of packing heat without it showing (that skivvy holster photo is no joke — click on it & see).
I’ve been on the planet for 63 years and never once felt I needed a loaded pistol close to hand. When I flew fighters I wore a pistol on my survival harness; every couple of years I had to take small arms training to stay qualified. Otherwise my life was weapons-free. I’m not sure exactly when I decided to keep a weapon in the house and carry it with me on long motorcycle trips, or why. Maybe I’m just susceptible to the pervasive gun culture of the USA.
But here I was in a room with ten other guys who sincerely believed they needed to be armed at all times: in the grocery store, in Home Depot, driving the kids to baseball practice, noshing down at Applebee’s, watching Leno in bed at night, sitting in the stands at a NASCAR event, walking the dog. Why? To defend themselves and their families from attack! Which could come at any time!
Our instructor wore three guns. A large automatic in a waist holster concealed underneath an untucked polo shirt, a smaller automatic inside the waistband on the other side, and a little 9mm in an ankle holster. He wasn’t wearing these for instructional purposes, he told us — he wore all three every day, wherever he went.
Jesus, where do these guys live — what kind of lives do they lead — that would make them feel this threatened? I truly don’t get it.
There’s an interesting discussion about concealed carry over at The Reality-Based Community, if you’re interested in this issue.